


They Die

by OneAngryGinger



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Borderlands 3 Spoilers, Borderlands Spoilers, Character Death, F/M, Gore, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 15:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21412516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneAngryGinger/pseuds/OneAngryGinger
Summary: Krieg had to find out eventually.(Please note that this was written before the Psycho Krieg's Fantastic Fustercluck DLC was released)
Relationships: Krieg/Maya (Borderlands)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	They Die

Blood glinted off of hot metal as the brute wandered what used to be a bandit camp, the coppery smell permeating his lungs. A part of him nearly gagged at the smell, while another part took a deep and satisfied inhale, reveling in the scent and basking in the comfort it seemed to grant him.

“**I want to BATHE IN IT.**” he growled roughly, ending the thought with a demented chuckle whilst an inner voice made it's disgust with the idea very clear. No matter how much progress was made, things were still at odds between the two, and perhaps they always would be.

It was empty in the bandit camp, after Krieg’s little rampage, save for the various bodies littering the ground. Progress had been going well in his little cave, but the more rational part of his mind could only keep his blood lust at bay for so long. Deciding that more could be done when the psycho was at ease, his inner mind had relented, telling the madman to find some deserving and to “Do what you need to do…”. He did, of course, jumping at the opportunity to spill more blood and viscera on the dusty sand that covered the badlands. It hadn’t lasted long, but it seemed to be enough for the lunatic as he now seemed much more relaxed and less eager in his attempts to ‘kill the little man’ inside his own head. He hummed what was almost a tune, the sound mixing with the sound of a nearby radio and the chatter emanating from an old tv set balanced on a broken toilet.

_“Maybe now we can get back to-”_ His inner voice began before a jaunty tune started blasting from the tv. He would have ignored the interruption had he not seen a flash of blue on the screen that he immediately recognized.

Both his inner self and outer self found themselves kneeling on the ground, hands on either side of the device as he peered into the old and nearly broken television, heart swelling at the sight of her;

Maya.

The object of his deepest affections was on the screen. It had been so long since the last time he had seen her face that he was immediately transfixed by the image on the screen. His outer self muttered a soft recognition of “**Pretty lady….**” but his inner self suddenly noticed the presence of another on the screen. He was unsure of who it was for a moment, having been spending so much time in solitude that he had missed a large amount of the events. It took him seconds to recognize the face of Troy Calypso, one of the two twins that lead this new movement, The Children of the Vault. Neither Krieg knew much about them, other than the fact that they were both extremely dangerous.

Krieg felt his heart skip a beat.

The video progressed and his outer personality was snapped out of its revere when a caption appeared over his beloved’s face;

  
“Wipe that face off and smile.”

If his heart had skipped a beat earlier, it had completely stopped now.

**“Huh??”** The brute muttered in confusion, tilting his head to the side while staring at the screen.

_“Oh no….”_ the voice in his head breathed in response.

Time seemed to slow as he watched the vitality seem to drain out of Maya’s face before turning an ashen grey. His fingers gripped the sides of the television, cracking the old plastic with the white knuckle strength of his hands. His good eye was open wide, unblinking as her skin drifted away, head snapping back before turning to dust with an audible sound. The scene repeated itself once, twice, three times and then a fourth.

_“No…”_ the word escaped his lips this time, not in a growl or a shout, but a whisper and one all too lucid at that. This had been the first time that his own words escaped his lips outside of his cave. It should have been a momentous occasion, he should have been celebrating, he should have been filled with excitement but instead, he barely recognised that it had even happened. He was too distracted by the scene playing out before him and the horrible pain blossoming in his chest.

The scene ended, the words “Done and dusted” appearing on the screen.

He was still, stiller than he could ever remember being. The madman was silent, more silent than he had ever been. Those words kept playing in his head. Done and dusted, done and dusted, done and dusted.

**_“DONE AND DUSTED!!”_** The horrible scream tore his throat and before he could blink, his buzzaxe had been lodged into the screen of the television, destroying it completely. He was on his feet now, pulling the axe from the screen as his muscles flared. Sensations fought each other, icy cold fear and grief and burning hot rage contrasting so deeply that he felt he would crack.

** _“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”_ **

The bellow he let out was earth shattering as his fist connected with one of the bloodstained metal walls of a nearby structure. The metal dented with the strength of his blow and his fist came back with heavy abrasions and more than one broken finger. He didn’t care about the pain, no part of him did.

**_“MAYAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”_** He shrieked, hands balled into tight fists as he let out a sob

“_They killed her!_ **THEY KILLED HER!**” The voices were mingling now, inner and outer thoughts becoming indistinguishable from each other.

His fit continued, smashing his fists, buzzaxe, foot and even head into the objects around him, furniture, walls and cadavers alike. He eventually stopped, standing in the middle of his reign of carnage and breathing heavily.

“_She’s gone… they took her from us._” a lucid sounding voice muttered. A wail eliminated from the madman in response.

“**THE FALSE GODS HAVE STOLEN OUR LIGHT!**” A second voice cried, coming from the same mouth.

The sound of nearby vehicles erupted in Kreig’s ears, the sound of his rampage having attracted more COV. His body lurched in the direction of the noise, feet barely keeping up with the shift of his torso, his hands gripped his buzzaxe so strongly that the handle of it groaned in protest. His body locked into a strong stance, head and good eye twitching as a fire lit in his soul as the sound grew closer. A determination took over him, uniting two entities under one common goal.

_“We’ll make them pay…”_

**“THE CHILDREN CALL FOR MOTHER, ONLY TO BE RIPPED TO SHREDS!!!!”**

_“We WILL avenge her….”_

**“I’LL TEAR THEIR SKIN AND ERECT A SHRINE IN HER HONOUR!!!”**

_“No matter who they are, if we see a child of the vault…”_

**“I’LL GOUGE THEIR EYES AND THEIR SOULS WILL SCREAM FOR THE END!!!”**

** _“They die.”_ **

** _“THEY DIE.”_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there everybody I'm in agony over this.


End file.
